


Change

by CrowleysRat



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley being a gay mess, Idiots in love :), Light Angst, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale, Pining, Unrequited love kind of, fluff mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-11-02 13:07:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowleysRat/pseuds/CrowleysRat
Summary: He wanted to do it - the words were right there, just at the back of his mouth, ready to come out.Ready to change everything.But that was the thing wasn't it? It would change everything. Especially if Aziraphale didn't feel the same way...





	Change

Crowley stared down at Aziraphale's arm wrapped around his own. The angel in question was droning on about some book or another, voice quiet and head resting on Crowley's shoulder as they worked their way through another supply of vintage wine. 

He wished he could focus on enjoying the moment but Aziraphale's scent was _right there _and their _thighs _were touching and Crowley wasn't sure how much more his stupid, old heart could take. 

He could say it now. Quick and nonchalantly, like if he were mentioning the weather. He could. 

_I like you. _

_I've liked you for a long, long time. _

_Please tell me you like me too or I may just sleep for another century. _

_I really, really like you. _

So many ways he could say it. He could confess. It wouldn't be too hard. Just a couple of hastily said words and it would be done. 

A few words and Aziraphale would know. Crowley's longest kept secret would be out in the open, his heart open and exposed, placed into Aziraphale's hands for him to decide what to do with it. 

Crowley brushed his fingers across the angel's wrist. He had good hands. Capable yet delicate, and just the right size to hold the heart that already belonged to him. 

The words were bubbling in his chest already, working their way up to his throat. Just a little more. A tiny bit more and the words would spill out of his mouth and into the world where they'd hang in the stale air of the bookshop, stagnant and still between the two of them. 

Crowley let his head rest on top of Aziraphale's. 

He wanted to. He wanted to get these blasted, suffocating feelings out of him and into the open. But it simply wasn't the right time. Not the right time for everything to change. 

He'd do it. One day. Next week, in fact. 

He _would_. 

\-------------

_I like you. _

Three words. Just three, simple words strung together and said rapidly. He could do it _now_. It was the perfect time, wasn't it? 

He could take Aziraphale's hand, and whisper the words that had been stuck in his throat for who knows how long. He'd say it quickly and get it over with. 

Yes, that's exactly what he was going to do. It was about time. 

"An-"

"Your hair's quite soft, my dear," Aziraphale murmured offhandedly, cutting Crowley off before he could form a full word. 

"'s conditioner," he mumbled automatically, eyes closing again as the adrenaline left his system abruptly. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest as Aziraphale's fingers continued winding through his hair. 

He wanted to do it - the words were right there, just at the back of his mouth, ready to come out. 

Ready to change everything. 

But that was the thing wasn't it? It would change _everything_. Especially if Aziraphale didn't feel the same way... 

Crowley swallowed harshly, imagining the words going down his esophagus and into the bowels of his stomach. He didn't want to admit it and have everything change. 

He liked their friendship. Yes, so maybe he wanted to kiss Aziraphale senseless and hold him and give him ridiculous flowers but that was besides the point. 

If Aziraphale rejected him... He'd lose everything. He'd lose Aziraphale's easy friendship and his unrestrained smiles, he'd lose moments like this, with Aziraphale touching him so easily. 

He couldn't do it. Not with the risk of losing him completely. 

Not yet, anyway. 

One day. Soon. He just wanted to cling on to these moments for a bit longer, before everything changed. 

\------------

"I'm going to do it today," Crowley announced, spritzing more water onto his favorite fern. He definitely was. 

He was going to march straight into Aziraphale's shop and tell him, regardless of who was there or not. He was going to get these blasted feelings out into the open and he'd feel like he could breathe for the first time in months. 

The words he'd been holding back for so long would finally be out in the open, spilling out of him. 

It was just three words, anyway. No big deal. 

Anyone could say three words. Crowley once met a dog who knew five words. This would be a walk in the park. Easy as pie, or whatever the saying was. 

Just those three words and he'd have accomplished his mission. 

His feelings would be known. By Aziraphale. 

His angel. His oldest - and only - friend. 

He glanced at an untouched pile of mail he'd stolen from his neighbors, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to cause minor inconveniences today. 

How could he have forgotten his own _schedule_? Of course, he'd been so caught up in his scheming that it must have slipped his mind. 

Scratching his head, he glanced between the mail and his plants, debating. He really shouldn't put off his diabolical plans... 

"Tomorrow," he amended, glaring around at his plants. "Definitely tomorrow." 

He would be too busy today to tell Aziraphale. But he would definitely do it tomorrow. 

\--------------

"What?" Aziraphale asked, the flute of champagne halfway to his mouth. 

"I -" _I like you so, so, so much_. "Nothing." 

Aziraphale stared at him shrewdly for a few more seconds, his eyebrows creasing together as he stared at Crowley. 

"My dear, what's troubling you?" His blue eyes were soft and searching, one hand already reaching out to reassure Crowley. 

Not that he deserved it. He was doing this to himself, wasn't he? And having Aziraphale continue to be so kind and caring made it _worse _because how did anyone expect Crowley to _not _like him? It was impossible. 

He glanced at Aziraphale again, giving him a weak smile. The thing was, he wanted to tell Aziraphale - as had been established many, many times - but he was _scared_. 

There were too many unknown factors, too many things that could go wrong. 

Crowley pressed a fist to his mouth, biting back the words that desperately wanted to come out. He wanted to let it out, to get those feelings out of him so that maybe, just maybe he'd feel a tiny bit better about the whole situation. 

But, _fear_. 

"Just my plants," he lied easily, flashing a reassuring smile. 

He couldn't do it. 

As much as he wanted the words to come out, as much as he wanted Aziraphale to know that every touch and every smile meant more to him than the angel could imagine, he knew he couldn't do it. 

Not here. 

Not yet. 

_Maybe not ever_, a little voice whispered. 

\--------------

"I'm about to make a really dumb decision." 

Aziraphale glanced over, eyebrows raised in question. 

"And I need you to say yes or no." 

_Yes, I'll tell you. _

_No, I'll keep it a secret. _

The angel smiled mischievously, "Yes." 

Crowley blanched. He'd been expecting Aziraphale to take the cautious route, to advise him to think things through, to _discourage _him. Instead he sat there with an expectant smile on his unfairly attractive face. 

"Ngk. I - Okay. Okay." 

"Are you alright, my dear? You look -"

"Yes, yes, I'm absolutely fine," Crowley assured, mind whirling to find the words he'd practiced. His brain had turned to mush sometime in the last minute because he found he couldn't string together a single sentence. 

This was not the outcome he'd been expecting. At all. 

In fact, he'd asked Aziraphale because he'd wanted - and hoped - that the angel would say _no_. 

"Crowley, are you -" 

"I'm fine," he snapped, waving off the concern as he felt his panic rising. What was he supposed to say? Was it too late to take it back? It wasn't, right? 

"You really don't -" 

"I like you." 

Aziraphale froze with his hand stretched out, his pale fingertips nearly touching Crowley's shaking arm. There was a faint ringing in his ears, muffling everything else - not that there was much to muffle, the entire bookstore had fallen deathly silent. 

"Oh," Aziraphale breathed, his lips stretching into a soft smile. "Me too." 

"You don't have to - What?" 

"I said, I like you too." Crowley stared unblinkingly at the angel in front of him. He must not have heard right. There was no way in hell that this amazing, wonderful, unbelievable being would like him back. 

"Like, as a friend, right?"

"And as more," Aziraphale laughed, his little smile fading as he turned quiet and serious. "Much more." 

"Ngk. I - Oh. Okay." Crowley stared at his shaking hands for a few moments, "Do you mean like, best friends or -" 

Before he could finish his question, Aziraphale was huffing an impatient sigh and leaning over to cup Crowley's cheeks. 

"I mean like _this_," he murmured, and a second later, his lips were pressed to Crowley's. His brain short-circuited as he realized it was Aziraphale -_ his angel!_ \- who was kissing him now, doing what he'd only dreamed of doing for _centuries _now. 

_Things will change_, he thought abruptly, shifting up to press Aziraphale onto his back, _and that's perfectly okay. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
